Monday, April 21, 2014

Lindsay Ep 7 and 8: It's A Bomb and a Bombshell ... and The End

I’m thinking Oprah has finally has enough of Lindsay Lohan — who hasn’t, other than, say … Lindsay Lohan — because the Final Two episodes of the craptastic Lindsay reality show docu-series on OWN were shown back-to-back last night. It’s like Oprah was yanking off a big fat ass bandage, you know.


First up, Lindsay is asked to film a piece for Billy Billy Eichner's Billy on the Street show; the call time is 1PM. Her make-up crew arrives at her apartment at 1PM — although Lindsay won’t allow OWN to film in her house that day — and so Billy on the Street producer, Mike Farah, waits for her to come down; he texts her, and receives no responses; he gets word from a member of his team that, once again, they’ll be losing the light if Lindsay doesn’t hurry and so Lohan finally makes her appearance on the street at 3:05PM, two hours late; she blames it on a chest cold and tells us she knows when she gets sick because she doesn’t smoke as much.

She tells us this as she’s lighting a cigarette.

Anyway, she arrives ‘on set’ — the one place Lindsay most longs to be — and begins destroying a car with Billy Eichner because they're so upset that How I Met Your Mother is ending. Funny? I’ll reserve judgment but, at the end of the sledge-hammering of the car, the producers ask Lindsay to record a couple of lines of dialogue; she says she can’t; head cold; m’kay.

So off she goes; home to pack, because now she’s headed to Art Basel in Miami. She lies in bed, chain-smoking and telling us how hard it is to pack for a trip while she tells AssMatt the Assistant what to put in her suitcases. Lindsay’s life is hard, y’all. She only gets out of bed long enough for her hairstylist to put $1200 of hair extensions in because, you know, Miami, long hair. Or something.

Lindsay travels all by herself to Miami because the OWN crew isn't going; oh, I smell trouble, and, as happens, on her second day in Miami, there are reports of an altercation at the house where Lindsay is staying. The fracas involved one Barron Hilton — not an actual Baron, that’s his name — who says he made a rude remark about Lindsay and she had her entourage beat him to a pulp.

Naturally, she had nothing to do with that and yet she leaves that house and hides out in a hotel for the remainder of her trip. But, back home, she tells reality show docu-series Amy Rice that she will “not explain” what happened.
"I'm not going to explain. My name was involved in it. It is what it is. ... It's really frustrating because I didn't have any part in it."
Still, I find it funny that when the OWN cameras are off, all hell breaks loose, and, as as the gossip bubbles and boils — some guy named Bob even wrote about it on something called I Should Be Laughing — Lindsay says she will write what "really" happened and post it to her website. It’s a long letter about bad people, and innocent Lohan and how she never really does anything wrong, head cold, overslept, working, paparazzi and yet she gets the blame for it. In the end, though, she doesn’t post it.

Next up, Lindsay goes out to a club, after AssMatt the Assistant first scours the place to make sure no one can see her. Lindsay talks about staying sober, and tells us she has no issues being around people who drink — apparently even the friend sitting next to her who rambles on about the first time he ever got high and then brags about how strong his vodka tonic is; yeah, these are good people to have around.

We do get a few sweet moments, though, as Lohan goes back to the Duffield Children’s Center in Brooklyn for her community service punishment and plays with the kids, but after the last few weeks it feels a little too staged, and not at all real. Especially when Lindsay says she hopes the judge will just tell her that she’s done enough community service because, you know, she’s been there twice and what’s the purpose? There are better things to do …

Like introducing fellow Disney-star-turned-trainwreck Miley Cyrus at the Jingle Ball holiday show in New York. It'll be her largest public appearance since leaving rehab 137 days earlier and she’s chosen, once again, to dress like a two-dollah whore in a Same Old Chic t-shirt and thigh-high black boots.

We listen as Lindsay tells us she’s meant to be ‘in the biz’ because it’s in her family; Dina was a Rockette — probably until she got so drunk she high-kicked another dancer in the face and was let go — and Granny "did radio."
"It's like I'm not feeding what I was meant to be given, what God gave me as a child, so that can make you go crazy and that's essentially what it did to me. I got really bored, really restless. And in that you act out. I think that's, you know, being human."
Or childish, and spoiled, and out of control, and a drunk, maybe?

Lindsay wants to meet Miley before the show, and gets annoyed that Miley won’t respond to her Tweets — and you just gotta know that you are really low-rent if Miley Cyrus avoids you; in the end, Miley does just that  she won’t meet Lohan; I’ll give Miley points for that one!

The next day Lindsay lunches with film producer Hilary Shor, who will be producing her upcoming film, Inconceivable; on the way, Lindsay once again whines about how tired she is “not getting cast in movies” and hates seeing all these other actresses who are getting her roles; you know, actresses who haven’t been arrested for DUI, cocaine possession, theft.

At lunch, Hilary kisses Lindsay’s ass, saying she’s adored her since Lindsay was ten — before the cracktastrophe occurred, you know — and she tells Lindsay that, as an actress, and star of a film, she’ll set the tone for the production. Lindsay agrees, but I think Hilary might have done better to have lunch with Paul Schrader and asked him about Lindsay and The Canyons.

Just sayin’.

Next up, we enter Episode 8, the final episode, and Lindsay starts off being interviewed by Jared Leto for a project he's doing about LA; she says people come to LA for “fame” and tells us that the person she’s most disappointed in her life is herself. I get teary eyed, but then I remember she’s acting.

We also get a little film of Lindsay cooking pork chops at home — must-see TV — with friends Carly and Gavin; Gavin’s a good friend. He’s the one who said, at first, that he was driving the car during Lindsay’s car wreck on the Pacific Coast Highway a couple of years ago until police proved otherwise; he’s the one who hung out with Lindsay the night she punched the psychic in the face at a bar; he’s the one who sold Lindsay out after that because she drove off and left him.

Gavin’s a good friend; every recovering addict needs a good friend like Gavin. 

Luckily, that’s all we see of him, because next Lindsay shoots the cover of something called Nylon Singapore magazine; but she arrives right on time and the photographer just loved her so that was a good day.

She also meets with literary agent Scott Waxman to discuss a possible book deal; she says she can either do a coffee table book full of pictures of herself or maybe write her “real true” story. Waxman wants the second one because, he says, it’s a multi-million dollar book deal. And Lindsay wants it, too, because she thinks she’s worth multi-millions and because she’s worried about Dina’s saying about her in her book, and Lindsay wants her “truth” out there; or, at least, a truth that might not be as bad as Dina’s.

And then Lindsay heads out to another bar, flowing with the champagne, to help launch her brother, Michael’s, new karaoke app called Just Sing It. And again Lindsay tells us that she’s fine being around drinkers and drunks and booze and such and I wonder how much she drank when the cameras weren’t looking.

This episode was a whirlwind of activity because, after the launch party, Lindsay heads to Shanghai for the Sohu Fashion Awards. Let that sink in: Lindsay Lohan gets an award for her style? Sohu must be Chinese for Hooker. And while there, Lindsay does yet another photo shoot for a Chinese magazine that requires her to lie on couches and arch her back like a porn star.

It’s good stuff, you know, but that’s over and she’s off to Sundance with Inconceivable producer Randall Emmett to announce that Lindsay will be back “on set.”  She's at a rented condo where there's a huge no-smoking sign so naturally she’s smoking because the rules don’t apply.

She and Emmett head off tot eh press conference where the journalists in the half-empty room are told that if they ask any personal questions — about what, or whom, I wonder — they will instantly be escorted out. They don’t, and the press junket seems to go fairly smooth until …

Back in New York, AssMatt the Assistant is packing his bags to go back to LA for a while; he says he’s leaving because “it’s complicated” and he’s signed a contract not to talk, but the tabloids have a different story; they claim that now that the reality show docu-series is over there is no paycheck for AssMatt and so off he goes.

For about six weeks because then the show has begun to air and Lindsay will be doing press and needs an assistant so apparently OWN couched up another check for AssMatt. He calls the gossip rubbish, saying he was paid up front for being her assistant and that there never was an issue of not being paid, but even his own story corroborates the gossip; he was paid up front for working during the show and now that it’s over, buh bye.

Until they need him again and there he is helping Lindsay do press for the reality show docu-series, including David Letterman's show, which makes Lindsay happy because the last time she was there was right before her last court date, jail sentence, rehab.

It’s a full-circle, Oprah Winfrey A-ha moment.

And then The List. That list of lovers pops up. She explains that it was part of her Betty Ford program, her “sexual inventory” and that while she was moving to New York, someone — Dina — found it in a box and that person — Dina — leaked it to the press and that person — Dina — will be seen on the reality show docu-series even though that person — Dina — is now out of her life.

And then the apartment. Even though Lohan was given a two-year lease — paid for by the production company, not Lindsay Lohan — the owner has decided to sell the place because now it’s a hot property; in wonder if “hot property” means one needs a HazMat suit to enter it? Lindsay doesn’t want to leave, calls life unfair, and says she’ll do whatever she can to scare off potential buyers.

Like posting a sign that says “Lindsay Lohan Lived Here”? Scary.

And so, dear friends, the Lindsay Lohan reality show docu-series is coming to a close, and we’re going to get some final thoughts from Lindsay.
"I cried so many times … When the camera's on, I'm on, and if I know I'm not capable of being on, that's why I'd say I can't be filmed today.”
Except, now she drops the bomb that, during those times she didn’t allow access to the film crew, she suffered a miscarriage:
"I had a miscarriage for those two weeks I took off. It's a very long story. ... Mentally, that messes with you."
That’s all, though; no more talk about it; no mention of who the father might be; no talk of maybe had she told Oprah of her miscarriage, Oprah might not have felt compelled to make the infamous Knock It Off Visit, because now Oprah seems like a bitch, telling Lindsay not to f**k it up and to stop the bull sh*t when Lindsay had just suffered a miscarriage.

Or …. Maybe it was just another excuse. It’s never her fault you know.

She talks about addiction, but then says she’s not your typical addict — no responsibility — and that she knows right from wrong and good from bad.

And then she goes off to a party with friends.


I’d be surprised if there wasn’t more rehab and jail time and court time now that the reality show docu-series is over. I think Lindsay held on as long as she could while OWN was around and when they weren’t — Miami — all hell breaks loose and will again.

Lindsay ALLEGEDLY did get a book deal, though not the multi-million dollar offer that Waxman talked about because the publishing industry knows a trainwreck when it sees one. But, she will ALLEGEDLY get $1 million from HarperCollins to write about her last — or perhaps better called her most recent — stint in rehab that lead to the OWN fiasco. According to an insider, it will be more like an autobiography than a memoir.

The film Lindsay is set to shoot in June, Inconceivable, is being financed by Randall Emmett  and his business partner George Furla; those two have received their financial backing from producing team Remington Chase and Stefan Martirosian who have 'separate convictions for cocaine trafficking.'

Lindsay said she was 'in the dark' about the ALLEGED history of Remington Chase and Stefan Martirosian but still intends to make the movie; she says “'film financing is a business matter and of no concern to an actor” which might be true but she’s a producer with a history of drug problems being financed by drug money.

As of now, though, that’s all that Lindsay has on her plate.

When this show first started, I was pulling for her; she'd just done the Oprah interview and actually admitted to her drug and alcohol problems. i thought she was finally taking responsibility, but now I think she was just saying what she thought Oprah and OWN wanted to hear. Then came the "reality."

Lindsay told Jared Leto that she didn't know what the future had in store for her, but I have an idea ...


the dogs' mother said...

Really surprised Oprah and company miscalculated this one. A) that there would be an interest and B) anything meaningful would happen.

Jim said...

Whatever happened to Baby Jane? LOL
My question is HOW and WHY does Lindsay Lohan even STILL HAVE an entourage? Those people really do need to get a life!

anne marie in philly said...

YESSSSSSSSSSS! her 15 seconds of fame were up after "freaky friday".

PS - did the MDs tie her tubes after the miscarriage? sure wouldn't want to see LL have a kid; she can't even take care of herself.

Blobby said...

'Unstoppable' was a better trainwreck. Of course I'm still laughing at 'nylon singapore' magazine.

The miscarriage thing is hilarious. I mean, that it took her 8 weeks to think up the lie. Who'd get their dick next to that walking ashtray? c'mon.......

I love Billy Eichner, but don't you wish they'd all NOT call and text her and just pack up and leave? Let her meander down to empty space.

Reading these were way better (and funnier) than having to watch them myself, so thanks to you for that. Sorry for the painful experience.

Bob Slatten said...

I was happy[?] to endure it for y'all!